Invader Liz
I was guided in by a few guards, they hand cuffed me and didn’t let me talk. I knew I was in trouble, I’ve done a lot of bad things in my past, but they were all accidents! When we arrived at the Tallests’ corridors, the guards opened the door, and shoved me through. “My Almighty Tallest!” I tried, while struggling to my knees. “What a wonderful day it is, yes?” The Tallest were not amused. “Or not…” I murmured, scratching the back of my neck. “Liz—“ “Uh, that’s ‘Invader’ Liz,” I reminded them. “Not anymore,” Tallest Red said darkly. That’s when my heart sunk. I was going to get stripped of my invader title, and then exiled. Or worse, deactivated. Every Irken’s fear is to be deactivated. “Liz, you have been very committed to job, and your mission,” I smiled, hopeful. “Unfortunately, just commitment isn’t enough. You need bravery, cunningness, skill, finesse, all of which you lack.” My smile immediately faded. I wasn’t going to get out of this unharmed, socially, mentally, or physically. “You have been an abomination to this race, and—“ “Oh let’s just cut to the chase, you’re going to be on trial to be deactivated,” Tallest Purple cut off Red. My eyes grew huge, my heart thudded painful, and my face dropped. I was going to be deactivated. Yes, I would be put on trial, but everyone knew that that was just for formality. No one ever makes it out, no one except for… “Zim…,” I murmured. I have never spoken that name with such… admiration before. Everyone had talked bad about him, never giving him anything to his name except for shame and disappointment. But it was clear to me now, anyone who was able to get out of deactivated must have something more to him than embarrassing shame. “Your trial will be tomorrow at 12:00.” “Until then, you will be held in our holding cells, where you cannot escape,” As Tallest Purple announced that, he motioned to the guards to take me away. Two of them grasped my arms painfully, surly leaving bruises. “Hey! I’m not helpless! I can walk mehself!” I shouted at the guards, but they ignored me. It was a long walk –or in my case, carry— to my prison cell. I don’t care what the Tallest called it, it’s a prison, and once I was there, I wanted to leave. The place was grotesque! The walls were covered in a thick coat of grime, dust, and slime, the floors were covered in dust and dirt, the place was all dark colors, and the cells had old, crusty bones littering the floors, not to mention the place smelled revolting! “Cell 4,289, Prisoner number 449,876,101,429.” I gulped at my identification number. I was the 449,876,101,429th person to be on trial to be deactivated. That means 449,876,101,427 people have lost their precious lives. 449,876,101,427 unlucky souls who were lost to the world’s cruel game of chance. “In you go!” One of them shouted, while the other unlocked the cell and threw me in. I skidded against the cold stone ground, tearing my leggings and gloves, scrapping my knees and palms. Pulling myself up, I checked how bad I was damaged. I took off my long black gloves, and pulled my sleeves up to my shoulders. Yup. Bruises were already forming on my forearms. Sliding my sleeves back down, I sat against the disgusting wall, and pulled my torn knees up to my chest. The scraps weren’t bad, they were barely even bleeding. The blood was like little light magenta beads seaming at the ends of stitches. Next, I checked my palms. They were dark, but I knew they’d hurt more. They always do. Sighing, I pulled on my gloves, ignoring the tears in them both. I let my mind wonder, to useless things, and then to the more important things. ‘How will Saf act when I’m deactivated?’, ‘What will become of UKI?’, ‘Will I still be conscious?’, ‘Is there a life after deactivation?’, ‘Does it hurt?’ All of which wracked my brain, for the majority of my uneventful evening. Suddenly, it was like a bright light dawned on me. “Zim…,” I muttered. Yes, he may be an incompetent idiot –Don’t judge me, I was in the audience when he was talking about squishing the Earth it its neighboring planet— But if he got his way out of deactivation, he must be some kind of demented genius of some sort! I pondered. Now how DID he escape? From what I had heard from Saf, who was in the audience, all his defects caused the control brains to malfunction, and they had let him go. That’d never happen to me. I’m not nearly as big of a defect as Zim is. I looked around my cell, seeing a small hole, possibly the size of a snarchet… not nearly big enough for me to squeeze through. Maybe I could figure out a way to escape on my way to trial. I grinned. Yes, precisely.